


Junior

by Missy



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-30
Updated: 2010-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-09 19:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/90741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Madeline rescue Michael from three weeks of captivity, and Michael soon learns there's a different sort of partnership going on between his mother and Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Junior

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jebbypal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jebbypal/gifts).



"Keep your head back, Sam." Madeline's got a piece of cloth pressed firmly to his nose, trying to stem the flow of blood down his cheek.

Michael's a mess, his face a welter of bruises and cuts but he's still driving the Charger at a breakneck pace out of the neighborhood where he'd been held hostage for over three weeks. "MOM," he says firmly, ducking toward the glove compartment, "stay down."

"I'm not moving!" Madeline insists, even as a bullet ruffles her hair. "Sam needs me."

"Maddie," Sam wriggles down in the seat, yanking a pistol free of his waistband, "can you shoot?"

She doesn't take a second to question, argue or plead. She grabs the gun and takes surprisingly efficient aim out the broken back window, her free hand on Sam's neck, holding him out of the range of fire.

Michael and Sam trade looks as Michael leans out the broken driver's side window, adding his own weapon to the battle.

Maddie picks off one of the shooters, and Michael splits open the shoulder of another. The amount of time that passes between Michael spotting the oil tanker parked at the side of the road, driverless and his piercing the thinnest part of its hull with a bullet and blowing it sky-high, incinerating his captors, is less than two minutes.

There's nothing for the three of them to do but breathe now. Michael pulls off to the side of the road and leans back in his seat, shading his eyes. Madeline puts the gun down and reaches for her cigarettes, while Sam finishes staunching his bleeding nose. He's the one who finds his words first.

"Anyone else need a beer?"

 

***

Michael spends the next four days lying flat on his back, trying to nurse his bruises and bumps. Madeline fusses over him and Sam, who lies beside him with two broken ribs, a broken nose and a broken wrist.

He doesn't remember much of the long imprisonment, only flashes of pain and failed escape attempts. It was all he could do to stay conscious after they broke his foot. Fi's pumping him full of off-market painkillers and they're seeing him through in a peaceful orange haze.

In his half-aware state he thinks he hears soft laughter, coy giggling from the other bed, but he chalks it up to the drugs and his fever. At least until, when he finally has the strength to leave his bed, he bumps into Sam and Madeline, sitting on the steps together, watching the sunset, holding hands, and necking.

 

***

Sam has the courtesy to be ashamed of himself for not telling Michael about his relationship with Maddie. VERY ashamed of himself. If Michael had given him the option of falling on his sword to expiate his sins he would have done it with no questions asked. Madeline doesn't think there is a reason for Michael to be angry. In fact, she does the one thing Michael never thought she would do – give him the silent treatment. For weeks she refuses to even admit him to the house, let alone look at him.

He enjoys and resents it. Or would enjoy it, if Sam would just stop gazing at him balefully every few minutes.

"What, Sam?"

Sam looks down at his lap. They've been stuck in the safe house watching these Columbian drug exporters for three hours and nothing interesting's happened.

"I know you're not happy with me," Sam says, "but wouldya stop taking it out on your mom?"

Michael frowns. "She's the one who cut me off, Sam."

"Did you ever ask her why?" Michael, of course, had not. "Because you treat her like this is a bad thing. And it sure as hell isn't a bad thing – in fact, it might even be love…"

Michael glares back evenly. "It's love now, Sam?"

Sam sticks out his jaw stubbornly. "Yeah, it is."

The resulting melee blackens Michael's eye again and leaves a bruise on Sam's forehead. They leave coffee stains on the floor and scare off their quarry.

Michael thinks it was worth it. After all, he's made his point.

***

"You're a blooming idiot, Michael Westen."

Michael glances over the top of his paper and is temporarily blinded by a blast of light coming off the gold necklace draped about his quasi-girlfriend's neck. "Hi, Fi."

She sits across from him, glaring. "Your mother's been worried sick about you."

Michael's gaze is implacable. "Well, I have a phone – she could tell me that herself."

Fiona flings her purse onto the table. "That's the problem, Michael – she's exactly like you. Exactly. Stubborn to the core."

Michael glowers. "I don't know if I should be flattered."

Fiona glares at him. "You should be. You're both tough in that Westen way."

His face shows complete disbelief. "You're taking mom's side."

Fiona stares at him. "She's really in love with Sam, Michael. You ought to know by now that there's no changing a woman's feelings, eh?"

Michael's expression remains implacable. He knew it well, especially in Fiona's case. "You think Sam won't hurt her?"

"They made a brilliant team," she declares. "If they can survive hanging off of an awning six stories from the ground, they can handle marriage."

"Awning…wait, marriage?" Michael glares up at Fi.

"Oop, said too much - I can't spoil all of the surprises," she teases.

Michael winces, feeling out of his depth. Ultimately, he would have to find and forgive Sam himself, and the last thing he wants to do is swallow his pride.

 

***

Sam's the one who proposes the fishing trip. Maybe he's sick of getting the Westen silent treatment, or just wants a free, beer-laden trip out of the house; it's his idea that places them both on the beach as Sam baits his hook and tries to break the ice.

"I really do love her, Mike." He says, to the fascinating rocks in the distance.

Michael watches Sam and the ocean, his sinker bobbing in the drink. "How much?"

"Enough," declares Sam, "to do this," He pulls a folded piece of paper from the pocket of his khakis and presents Michael with a divorce declaration. "Took me awhile to find her, but I did."

Michael suddenly realizes the level of Sam's gravity. "I thought you didn't know where your wife is."

"I had Fi track her down." Sam watches Michael. "I told you I'm serious about her."

Michael eyes him warily. "The only thing I want is for you to make her happy. Can you do that?"

"You know it." Michael doesn't give his permission but allows Sam to Both men sit in the cool breeze, enjoying the warm Florida morning. "So, since your mom's gonna be an Axe, and we're gonna be family.…"

Michael sighs in a long-suffering way, waiting for Sam's joke. His impish grin lets him know it's going to be a good one.

"...Maybe I should start calling you junior."


End file.
